


Twelve days of Christmas

by kiki_92



Series: Siege the Christmas [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Christmas market, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Issues, Kissing, Marriage Proposal, Mistletoe, Multi, Secret Santa, Sharing a Bed, Snowball Fight, Snowed In, no beta we die like (wo)men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_92/pseuds/kiki_92
Summary: Collection of Christmas themed ficlets, will try to post regularly during the month of December. Expect mostly fluff





	1. Calling the family - Twitch/Caveira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't betaed and I'm posting a bit early, but since tomorrow I'll be out all day I wanted to start this

“Are you out of your mind?” Caveira crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at Twitch with her best scowl.

“Please Taina! It will cost you nothing, all you have to do is stay at my side for five minutes and pretend to like me. That’s it!”

“Because you told your mother you had a girlfriend, and now you need someone to save your ass from that lie.”

“She wouldn’t stop trying to set my up with her friends’ sons. You have no idea how annoying she can be, always talking about finding a husband and starting a family.”

Caveira could empathise with Twitch’s plight. She could, really. She just didn’t know why Twitch asked her of all people on the base. “I just don’t see why _I_ should help you.”

If Twitch was disappointed or frustrated by her answer, she didn’t show it. Instead, she grinned like she had been expecting that reaction from Caveira. “I’ll owe you a big time favour. Anything you want, no questions asked.”

The words hit Caveira like a slap, shame flooding her. It was almost exactly what she said to Twitch after she and Valkyrie helped her with her brother’s mess in Bolivia. Twitch told her there was no need for that, and never cashed in that promised favour. Except maybe that was her way of reminding Caveira of it? No, the French woman was way more direct than that. Still, never let it be said Caveira didn’t repay favours.

“No need for that,” she said harshly. “Just this once, then we’re even.”

Twitch beamed at her like she had won the lottery, her whole face lighting up in joy. “Thank you Taina!”

It was fine, Caveira could do this. It wouldn’t be difficult, she just had to stand next to Twitch, maybe put an arm around her. Pretending to like Twitch wasn’t such a chore, the woman was so damn likeable that there was no need for faking, really. If this meant so much to her, Caveira would do it.

Twitch’s room was clean and orderly, except for the armfuls of spare pieces and wires and circuits on the bed. Clearly she had scooped everything out of the desk and dumped it on the first flat surface she saw. A sleek and expensive looking laptop was on the otherwise empty desk. Twitch sat in front of it and pointed at the chair next to her for Caveira to seat. It was fine, this would be quick, and she only had to sit there. Caveira watched while Twitch started the video call, centering the image in a way that only showed her.

The woman who appeared on the screen looked so much like Twitch, only thinner and older. Caveira couldn’t understand what they were saying, her grasp of French was extremely basic and composed mostly of curses she’d heard the GIGN say at some point during these years. She could imagine at first they exchanged greetings, their voices happy and light. However, the tone gradually changed the longer they spoke. Twitch used her irritated and defensive tone while her mother had increased her pitch and was nearly shouting.

“Mom, this is Taina. My _girlfriend_.” Twitch put an arm around Caveira’s shoulders and angled the screen so Caveira would appear on camera too.

Her mother’s answer was icy. “Ah, yes. Girlfriend.”

Twitch’s smile was hopeful but determined, yet Caveira was too distracted by her soft touch and how good she smelled. Unfair she was so cute and even she smelled good, like sweet apples and… oh God, Caveira had to get a grip of herself before she buried her face on Twitch’s lovely hair like a creepy weirdo. Caveira noticed they were arguing again, still in French. She caught a couple of words from the older woman, none very flattering and probably aimed at Caveira. Twitch looked outraged, and it sent a buzz of warmth in Caveira’s stomach that she looked like she was defending her. Without thinking about it, she clasped Twitch’s hand, squeezing it in support. The reaction was instant, Twitch’s mother sneering at her from the screen. As if that could intimidate Caveira.

“No offense to your _friend_ there, darling, but you cannot honestly tell me you prefer her company to coming home!” Twitch’s mother was a bitch, Caveira decided. A shame she wasn’t wearing her usual skull face-paint, it enhanced the power of her murderous stare. “Your sister and father miss you so much! We’re all worried for our little Emmanuelle! And I have the perfect boy for you, you’ll see. Try to not scare him off like you did last time, and I can guarantee that…”

Sick of this bloody farce and doing nothing, Caveira turned to the side. Putting a hand on the back of Twitch’s head, she kissed her like the world was ending. Twitch didn’t hesitate, putting as much enthusiasm into it as Caveira, licking her lips and giggling when they pulled apart. Caveira treated Twitch’s mother to one of her deadly stares.

“We’ll see if we can come for a visit,” her smile was all teeth and none of the cheer. “If we’re not busy saving innocent people from terrorists, that is.”

Caveira closed the video call without letting the other woman say anything else. She had said more than enough and Caveira was sure nothing of it had been good. Twitch stared at her with a devious smirk, and only then did Caveira realise she had invited herself to meet Twitch’s family. As her supposed girlfriend. _Oh caralho_.

“Do you want to practice more at being girlfriends?” Caveira nearly ran out of the room at Twitch’s question, but she stayed, her heart beating like a war drum. “I know this nice café in town, how does it sound for a first date?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) if you want :)


	2. A favourite - Sledge/Jäger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have Sledge/Jäger enjoying some season themed movies

If there was one thing Sledge hadn’t expected of Jäger, was for the German to be so enamoured of the Christmas season. He didn’t seem the type, always more focused on his engineering projects than in which day he lived. And yet, the day after the Americans celebrated Thanksgiving, both Jäger and IQ appeared with a box of Christmas decorations. They decked the base in tinsel while singing carols off key, surprising everyone except for the rest of the GSG9. With that knowledge, Sledge shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when he discovered Jäger’s other passion in this season. 

It was a rather accidental discovery. Sledge had been working until late, and since it wasn’t past midnight yet he went to find Jäger, to spend some time with his boyfriend. However, Jäger wasn’t in the workshop as he expected. Supposing he’d be in his room, Sledge went upstairs and knocked on his door, only to receive no answer. Carefully, he opened the door just enough to poke his head in. It was deserted. At loss of what to do, and slightly worried since he could not find Jäger, Sledge went downstairs. He crossed path with Bandit, who stopped Sledge with a grim expression.

“Do yourself a favour and don’t go in there,” he gestured with his thumb the door behind him, leading to the TV room. “Run while you can.”

Bandit scampered away after that cryptic message, leaving behind a very confused Sledge. Curious as to what could have sent Bandit running for the hills, Sledge went into the dreaded TV room. To his surprise, Jäger was half lying in one of the couches, watching a movie with an expression of rapt interest. Oh, that was actually nice, and it eased the nagging worry in Sledge’s mind. Jäger was safe and accounted for, and now Sledge could relax. 

He sat down by Jäger’s side, and the engineer didn’t acknowledge his presence until Sledge wrapped his arm around Jäger’s shoulders. The movie was, as he soon realised, a romance one. Not only that, a Christmas themed romance movie, sappy and full of clichés. When Sledge pulled him closer, he readily leant against his side, letting Sledge hug him.

“Marius.”

“Shhh! Not now,” Jäger hissed at him, not with anger but with urgency. “That’s the part when she comes back and he apologises!”

So he had seen this movie before. That was an interesting and puzzling bit of information. Since Jäger seemed to enraptured with it, Sledge dropped the questions and watched it with him. Sledge would admit it was mildly entertaining, but in truth he was more captivated by the man leaning against him. It was always fascinating to watch Jäger, more so when he was happy and relaxed. Jäger seemed to remain oblivious to Sledge’s staring, or if he noticed he didn’t care. By the time the credits rolled in, Sledge could not say how the movie had ended; not that he actually cared.

“This was my grandmother’s favourite,” Jäger said quietly, playing with a loose thread on his jeans and avoided looking directly at him. “When I was a kid I spent all the holidays with her while my parents worked. She loved Christmas movies, we used to spend whole afternoons watching those. Since then, it doesn’t truly feel like Christmas anymore if I don’t watch some grandma’s favourites.”

Sledge contemplated that information for a brief moment. “How about I make some popcorn and we watch another? I’ve never seen your grandmother’s favourites.”

His proposal was met with a beaming smile, and Sledge leant forward to capture Jäger’s lips. Sledge wasn’t Christmas crazy, but he always enjoyed spending time with the people he loved and making them happy. Perhaps he was more in tune with the season’s spirit than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) at least for now xD


	3. Stealth date - Thatcher/Montagne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thatcher and Montagne take a stroll through a Christmas market

Laughter and loud chatter surrounded them. Thatcher had just wanted to do some quick Christmas shopping before the stores got too packed with people, but he was moored in the street. The local Christmas market blocked the way, along with the throng of people admiring the lights and browsing the contents of the various stands.

He had to admit it made for a pretty and festive sight, but if it was up to Thatcher he would have hightailed and returned at a later date. However, Montagne was delighted, calling their discovery ‘a happy accident’ and dragging Thatcher to take a tour of the market. They walked side by side, taking in the sights as they walked from tent to tent and stall to stall and inspected the wares. Montagne occasionally grabbing his hand to steer Thatcher to whatever caught his eye, be it some nice handcrafted figurines; or the ridiculous woolen hats with the reindeer antlers; or the exuberant poinsettias next to the gaudy, plastic Christmas trees.

There was also food. Displays of confections, sweets, an indecent amount of gingerbread houses and cookies, and other traditional food Thatcher was less interested about. Thatcher had quite the sweet tooth, he just indulged in it very sparingly.

“Here, _chéri_.” Montagne presented him a chocolate crêpe, when he had bought it Thatcher had no idea. He’d must have been spaced out, looking at everything around them.

Thatcher accepted the proffered crêpe and ate it within a record time while Montagne smiled and shook his head at him. It occurred to Thatcher this could be considered a date. They hadn’t actually went on a date yet, they just started spending more time together. Quality time together. Thatcher was fine with that. However, now that he saw how lively Montagne looked, doubts assailed him. Perhaps Montagne would like to go out more often. Thatcher made a mental note to make an effort to propose something next time.

“Are you going back to France for the holidays?” 

Montagne looked at him in surprise, nearly colliding with a young couple who were looking up at the Christmas lights and decoration. “No, not this year. I’ll be staying at the base until after New Year’s. We’ll spend Christmas together and then I’ll go see the family.”

Thatcher made a choked sound of agreement. Montagne made it sound like he was staying to be with him especifically. He wasn’t ready to think too much about that possibility. A companionable silence fell between them, and Thatcher pondered about his own lack of family. No siblings or cousins he knew of, and at his age his parents weren’t here anymore. His work was his life, Rainbow his new family; Thatcher had long ago accepted that. Even if his new family could be a giant headache sometimes.

“Last year’s Christmas party was crazy,” Thatcher reminisced. “Smoke has since been banned from ever organizing it again.”

“I’m surprised he was allowed to do it in the first place.”

They reached the end of the market, a small ice rink took up most of the square, with a giant Christmas tree full of colourful lights towering next to it. Joyful screams came from the rink, where a group of teenagers were skating in circles around each other. Thatcher was strongly reminded of the recruits he’d been training for the last month; a loud and childish lot, but with promise.

“How well do you skate?” Montagne asked, looking at the ice rink and then at him.

“Hell no! I’m not doing that.” Thatcher reacted on instinct. The idea of getting in there, surrounded by kids while he fought to maintain equilibrium was not appealing at all. He had never liked skating, mainly cause he always ended sprawled on his bum.

Montagne laughed at his vehement refusal, grabbed his hand and instead steered him away from the ice rink. They walked back, holding hands and with Montagne talking about the presents he’d like to buy for everyone. That sparked an idea. There was no reason why they couldn’t have a secret santa for the people staying at the base. And if Thatcher helped organise it, he could maybe tip the scales in favour of getting Montagne’s name. He deserved something really nice, and Thatcher planned on delivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) at least for now xD


	4. Mistletoe ambush - Mute/Jäger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of the mistletoe prompts! Yes, I said the first, you get a double update today

Mute was well aware of his flaws and strong points, but he would have never said he was a coward. And yet here he was, spying Jäger by the corner of his eye again. Mute knew he was acting like a creep, following Jäger’s every move from a distance but never approaching him. He wanted to talk to him, but he still didn’t have the perfect plan. That was it, he just needed a good excuse to approach Jäger, it wasn’t like he was intentionally staying at a distance.

The German engineer was a unique combination of annoying, arrogant, and incredibly charming. Mute himself had been accused more than once of being exactly the same, the only difference being that Mute knew how to read the clues about how angry someone was with him. Jäger had more trouble with that.

Right now the engineer was arguing with Twitch about the design of her drone. The Frenchwoman was famous for her short temper when someone poked at her work, Mute was impressed she hadn’t chased Jäger out of the workshop yet. Friends or not, Twitch looked extremely aggravated. Mute pretended to work on his jammers as he watched them argue. Jäger was pointing at the drone and talking rapidly, too far from Mute for him to understand what he was saying. However, he could appreciate that the German looked ravishing, an excited grin on his face as he rambled endlessly to an increasingly angry Twitch. The way his eyes sparkled while exposing his ideas, his short and messy hair, even the dark smudge on his cheek looked good on him. Mute knew he had fallen and hard, this crush would not just evaporate in a few days.

Mute watched with a fond half-smile as Jäger finally picked up the obvious signs of Twitch’s anger and slowly backed away, no doubt offering a halting apology like he usually did. He just had to gather his courage and approach Jäger, didn’t seem like a difficult task. However, Mute would soon realised how utterly wrong he’d been in his assessment. Taking the first step was much harder than he imagined.

The first time he approached Jäger was in the workshop, one evening they stayed working until late. The German had seen him coming over and interpreted it as a sign of Mute’s interest in his Magpies. Jäger launched into a long winded, albeit interesting, explanation of how the gadget worked, how he designed it and why. Mute didn’t find a viable opening to express his interest in the engineer himself rather than his creation, so he listened and didn’t bring up the real issue he wanted to broach. Nevertheless, he managed to spend one-on-one time with Jäger, and that was worth something.

Finding another perfect opportunity was difficult, since Jäger seemed to be always either at the workshop or surrounded by the rest of the GSG9. Mute had no problem with the German team, he got along reasonably well with them, but trying to chat up Jäger with Bandit close by was a nerve-wracking idea. Bandit thrived annoying people, and he’d never leave them alone.

That morning Mute was pondering about that problem when he saw him. The engineer barely noticed Mute’s presence until he bumped into him. Jäger’s confused expression and mumbled half apologies changed into a brighter greeting when he saw it was Mute. They went together to the kitchen, in search of that blessed first cup of coffee or tea.

“Working until late last night?” Mute could already predict the answer, but it was a way as good as any to start a conversation.

“I had a brilliant idea at 3 AM, but couldn’t find the right components,” Jäger explained. “Spent more than an hour searching for them. In the end I settled for making a diagram to work on it later, but I…”

Mute turned around, curious as of why Jäger had stopped speaking so abruptly. The German was looking at something above his head, frowning. Looking up, Mute realised there was a branch of mistletoe hanging from the kitchen’s entrance. Where had that come from, he had no idea.

“You are under the mistletoe.” Jäger spoke slowly, looking at Mute with rapt attention.

“True,” Mute couldn’t hold off a smirk, bolder than he’d felt in weeks. “What do you plan to do about it?”

Jäger took the first step towards him, but it was Mute who crashed their lips together, savouring the moment and the sweet elation of victory washing over him.The fact that Jäger was kissing back, hands holding the front of Mute’s shirt like a lifeline, only added to the euphoria, making him almost dizzy. The sound of enthusiastic clapping startled them, making them hastily break the kiss.

“ _Bellisimo_! I’m so happy for you _bambinos_ ,” Maestro reclined against the kitchen counter, mimicking the act of wiping off a tear, “but could you stop blocking the entrance? I’m gonna be late for training, _cazzo_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) and say hi :)


	5. An eventful morning - poly!Spetsnaz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double mistletoe prompt, double the fun! I came up with this poly Spetsnaz idea and I couldn't resist my muse ok?

“ _Blyat_ , who hung mistletoe in our door during the night?” Tachanka pointed at the sprig hanging from the doorframe, as if the rest couldn’t see it too.

“I don’t care about mistletoe, I want my coffee.” Fuze’s reverence of coffee was unmatched, specially in the morning. Without his morning cup, the Uzbek would usually just growl at people when they talked to him.

In Glaz’s opinion, there was nothing remarkable about the mistletoe tradition, people made too much fuss about it. However, Glaz had access to all the kisses he wanted anytime, so maybe that was why he wasn’t impressed by it. Knowing Tachanka, he was probably more upset about someone fixing the mistletoe on their door with none of them noticing it than the fact the sprig was there. In the meantime, Kapkan had dragged a chair to the door and climbed on it, yanking the mistletoe away. He jumped down like a graceful feline, landing close to Glaz.

The sniper didn’t like letting opportunities go waste, so he grabbed Kapkan by the arm and dragged him into a kiss. Kapkan’s squeak of surprised turned into a pleased hum as he kissed back, arms around Glaz’s neck, accidentally tickling him with the mistletoe still on the hunter’s hand. Tachanka’s sigh made them remember they weren’t alone. They reluctantly broke apart, facing their unamused team mates.

“You two are making out again.” Fuze crossed his arms, a small pout on his face. “How surprising.”

The hunter kissed Glaz’s cheek before pulling away from his embrace, advancing towards Tachanka with a devilish grin. He flicked the mistletoe on Tachanka’s face, making the older man swat his hand away in annoyance.

“Oooh, are you afraid of a little mistletoe? Too chicken to- mph!”

Kapkan’s teasing was cut off by Tachanka roughly pinning him against the wall and kissing him. Tachanka never half-assed anything, and this was no exception. He kissed the hunter thoroughly, tongue massaging his and insinuating a thigh between Kapkan’s. When he pulled away satisfied, Kapkan whined softly in protest and confusion.

“To chicken to what, Maxim?” With an irritated huff at Tachanka’s teasing, Kapkan tried to draw him back into another kiss, but Tachanka was having none of that. “If we keep like this, I’m taking you to bed.”

The supposed threat failed miserably to dampen Kapkan’s growing lust. He reluctantly allowed Tachanka to put space between them. It was then he noticed Glaz and Fuze had decided to have some fun on their own while Kapkan was being ravished. Fuze had happily forgotten all his grievances with their current situation and looked thrilled now, hugging the sniper and making out with him. As Kapkan could attest, it was impossible to be displeased while Glaz had his lips on you.

“Hey, you don’t have mistletoe!” Kapkan knew because he still had it in his hand, although he had nearly dropped it before, when Tachanka pinned him to the wall.

“I wasn’t aware that was essential for kissing,” Fuze deadpanned. “You two do it often enough without mistletoe hanging around.”

“You and Alex were rather busy. It was only fair I entertained Shuhrat.”

“Enough dallying,” Tachanka put a stop to their conversation before it went on for longer. “Either we take this back to bed or we move down to have breakfast.”

There’s was a lengthy pause, they all considering both options carefully. In an unprecedented move, Fuze was the first one to voice his opinion. “I didn’t get a turn with Maxim yet.”

The hunter was stunned, since Fuze usually preferred to be with Glaz. He was even more surprised when Fuze came up to him and pressed their lips together, fighting against the hunter’s attempt to dominate the kiss. Kapkan was distantly aware of Glaz and Tachanka kissing too, Glaz’s sweet moaning only furthering Kapkan’s own desire to moan too.

“Hmm, perfect,” Fuze declared when he separated from him. “Now I can finally get coffee. The rest can wait for later, tonight.”

Kapkan would have expected this kind of baiting from Tachanka, or even Glaz, since they both loved teasing him. But never from Fuze. He supposed nothing could get between the Uzbek and his coffee, so he snorted at his comment.

“Sure, tonight.” Sharing a glance with the other two, Kapkan had a feeling tonight could well become _‘after training, in the showers’_. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

It was the perfect excuse to have a handsy sparring session, those were always interesting. He risked being cornered by all his teammates if he teased them too much. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened, but in Kapkan’s eyes that was more a reward than a drawback. He planned on making today’s training very interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) if you wanna drop to say hi!


	6. Christmas tree - Castle/Vigil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The base needs a Christmas tree, what could go wrong?
> 
> A big thank you to [Grain_Crain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain) for beta reading this one!

After a long and harrowing meeting between all the operatives in Rainbow, it had been decided to set up a communal Christmas tree in the base. They wanted to put it on the TV room, moving the couches around to make space for it. Buck and Sledge went to procure a real tree, and came back with a magnificent specimen. Everyone was suitably impressed, both by the tree and by how Sledge hauled it around seemingly without much effort. However, upon bringing the tree inside Castle soon noticed a tiny little problem. 

“Hey guys, are you sure this is gonna fit?”

The only person who heard him was Smoke, who replied in typical Smoke fashion. “If it doesn’t fit, you’re not using enough lube, mate.” 

Disregarding him was easy, more so when his comment got lost in the sea of chatter around him. A good group of people had congregated around Sledge, a sense of expectation settling in when he asked Buck to help him set the tree upright. 

“You are right,” a voice said right behind him. Vigil was adept at hiding in a corner, even while standing with the rest of them, barely speaking to anyone. And when he spoke, he mostly did so in Korean. 

Castle remembered rather fondly the first time he suddenly interrupted a conversation between Dokkaebi and Vigil to give them his opinion. Vigil’s face when Castle spoke in Korean had been priceless, although Castle had feared back then that the other man would start avoiding him. To his surprise, the opposite happened. Instead of shying away, Vigil sometimes sought him out, even if just for being in the same room as him. 

A loud crack was followed by a chorus of dismayed groans. The uppermost part of the tree sat at an angle, swaying sadly like a limp noodle until it finally broke and fell on the floor. The group was soon tangled in an argument. One side advocated for finding a new tree for this room and setting the current one outside; the other side was mostly comprised by the engineers, who were already calculating which modifications they could do on both the tree and its support to adjust the height. Castle and a few others just stood on the sidelines, watching the situation unfold.

In the middle of the chaos, Vigil went to pick up the broken part of the tree and quietly snuck away, unseen by anyone save Castle. He caught up with the Korean in the hallway. Vigil saw it was him and nodded, slowing his pace to give Castle the chance to walk by his side.

“That would make a nice mini Christmas tree.” Castle pointed at the vegetal remains on Vigil’s hands, which was mainly the central branch and some periferic branches. Scraggly, but it could look decent decorated. And it was better than watching how people argued back in the other room.

By the way he was looking at Castle, Vigil didn’t seem to understand him. “It’s broken, nobody likes broken things.”

“Broken things are not automatically trash,” Castle shrugged. “This branch’s gonna be our little project. Beats the alternative of sitting on our asses and waiting to see how they argue, don’t you think?”

Vigil frowned at the branch in his hands but still followed Castle. Finding a small flower pot and some soil, Castle set to work on making the branch stand upright without toppling and bringing the pot down with it.

“My mother’s a great believer of mending broken things or repurposing them to give them a second life.” Talking about her always brought a fond smile to Castle’s face. “She says the time and effort put on mending broken things made them more special. And look, with just the right support, it can proudly stand on its own again!”

“It looks weird.” Vigil was right, of course, but Castle still thought the little misshapen tree had its charm. 

“It’s unique, I like it. I like it a lot.” The last part he said while looking Vigil straight in the eyes, and the other man was unable to sustain his gaze for more than a few seconds. “C’mon, let’s see what we can find to decorate it. What do you like better, baubles or tinsel?” 

The branch turned Christmas tree would wither and die eventually, but the moments Castle was spending with Vigil, slowly bringing the man out of his shell, would stay in his memory forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to know what I'm up to, find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/)!


	7. Cold hands warm heart - Ash/Mira

The world looked different during the early morning, right after dawn turned the sky from a dark purple to a more subdued pink. The base was under a peaceful spell, most people opting to wake up later, especially during the cold months when getting out of the warm confines of bed felt like a cruel punishment. And yet Mira always awoke earlier than most, trailing the corridors like a ghost, waiting for the base to come to life. It was a habit acquired many years ago, working on old cars and stubborn engines with her father.

She had a cup of coffee, sitting in the kitchen with Thatcher, who drank his tea while reading the news on his phone. Occasionally, he’d make a grunt of displeasure or comment something, but it was mostly a silent companionship. They both liked it that way. She didn’t see Jackal hogging the coffee pot, perhaps he’d found sleep for once. Or perhaps he was finding ways to pass the time in Buck’s bed. Either way, she was happy for him. After the coffee, she went to the workshop, but the vast, underground room was too cold for Mira, and she would not be able to work if she put on wool gloves. Therefore, she turned on the heating to a comfortable temperature, and went away while the workshop got warm.

While Mira abhorred the cold, she could not deny a certain curiosity for the snowed fields surrounding them. So she bundled up in as many layers of clothing she could find and brave the cold of the outside. It was pretty, she would admit that much. The morning light gave the snow a golden hue, shiny and pristine. The more artistic inclined operators would try to capture the moment, be it Valkyrie with her camera or Ela or Glaz in a canvas. Mira was content just admiring it and doing nothing else. Loud huffing interrupted the light tweeting of the birds and shattered the peaceful moment. Coming from behind a corner, Ash was still doing her morning run. Or it would be more accurate to say she was struggling to keep up a jogging pace, knee deep in snow. There was being bullheaded, and then there was Ash’s level. And she had the gall to complain about Mira being the stubborn one, ha! At least Mira was sensible enough to not go running when you could barely walk outside.

Mira sunk into her coat, wrapping her arms around herself to stay warm. The wind was most unwelcome, this was far colder than the harsh Madrid winters. Something hit her in the back of the head, disintegrating in a cold spray that clung to her short hair and ran down the neck of her coat. She whirled around, murder on her face. The snow on her head was quickly melting, and she did not appreciate being wet and cold.

Ash was stretching, or tying up her boots, she wasn’t sure. However, there was no one else around, and it would be her style to attack Mira when she was distracted. Her whole being clamoring for revenge, Mira scooped a handful of snow and threw it at Ash, hitting the other woman in the backside. Ash’s undignified yelp was music to her ears, and Mira couldn’t help the satisfied grin on her face. It was not surprising then that Ash glared at her before throwing a snowball to Mira’s face.

“This means war!”

“Bring it on!” Ash was already preparing another snowball, making it bigger than the other two.

Mira ducked out of the way, grabbing snow and compressing it in a somewhat rounded shape before lobbing it at her opponent. The terrain was too exposed for Mira’s liking, finding cover would be difficult. Besides, Ash was faster than she was creating the damn snowballs, and the next one hit Mira on her face. Soon they both were engaged in an all out warfare, squealing when a snowball hit them, the cold snow clinging to their hair and clothes. Tired of being mercilessly pelted, and with her feet feeling like two blocks of ice, Mira sprinted towards Ash and crashed against her, sending them both toppling down.

There was a moment of stillness when Mira sat on top of Ash, pinning her down. Their eyes met and the unrestrained joy she caught in Ash’s gaze and her loud laughter took aback Mira. However, victory waits for no one, so Mira seized the moment to smash a handful of snow on Ash’s face. The FBI operative must have had the same idea, since she also shoved a fistful of snow on Mira’s neck. That was an effective way to have Mira get up with a yelp, trying to dust off all the snow from her and prevent it from falling inside her jersey.

“Joder, qué frio!” The cold had leeched Mira’s will to retaliate, her hands and feet more ice than human appendages. Or that’s how they felt to her.

“I’d say this was a draw,” Ash said, getting up from the snow too. Mira grunted, freezing and without a victory to warm her mood. She was surprised once again when Ash took of her gloves and wrapped her hands around Mira’s red and stiff fingers. The heat radiating from Ash was so nice she could have hugged her. “What do you say to a nice cup of coffee, or maybe a hot chocolate?”

Mira blinked, confused by Ash’s sparkling eyes and the way she rubbed the feeling back into her fingers. “Y-yes, why not?”

It felt like Mira had stepped into an alternate reality, with Ash smiling at her and talking about the first time she saw snow as they walked next to each other. Usually they would argue about who won or needle each other endlessly. Mira had to admit she liked this better. It wasn’t until much later she realised they were still holding hands, despite Mira not feeling cold anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) in case you wanna say hi or see what stupid shit I'm up to xD


	8. Snowed In - Glaz/Kapkan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being trapped by a snow storm and sharing a bed are great tropes, add my otp to the mix and the result is this, hope you enjoy it too! :D

The storm outside the small cabin raged on, flurries of snow landing heavily on the roof. Kapkan doubted they’d be able to leave in the morning. The mountain cabin was well stocked, he and Glaz wouldn’t the first soldiers to get trapped for a few days, he suspected. When running survival training exercises in the mountains, during the famed Russian winter there was always the risk of being stranded until a helicopter could come for the extraction.

After being stationed in the arctic circle, Kapkan knew how to deal with the cold. Glaz’s suggestion to share a bed for body heat was a sound one, and a luxury he hadn’t had during his time in Naryan-mar. At first everything went right, both shedding their boots and Gorka jacket and climbing into the single bed. Soon Kapkan discovered it was nothing like taking a nap next to any other teammate after a mission. They’d all done that, usually in the chopper ride back to the base, when exhaustion kicked in hard and someone ended sleeping with their head on the nearest shoulder.

Glaz didn’t hog the covers, nor did he kick in his sleep or try push Kapkan off the narrow bed. No, the problem was quite the opposite. Glaz was clingy. Kapkan hadn’t expected that, nor his own reaction to it. The sniper had fallen asleep first, his soft breathing and the warmth radiating from him lulling Kapkan to that state between wakefulness and sleep. It was nice and cozy, and then the arm thrown over his middle catapulted Kapkan back into being fully awake. After nearly jumping like a spooked cat, Kapkan realised there was more going on than just having Glaz’s arm draped over him.

The sniper had turned in his sleep and curled around Kapkan in a half hug, moulding himself against the hunter’s body. Kapkan would have thought Glaz was cold and thus sought warmth, but the sniper radiated heat like a furnace. Even through the layers of their respective clothes, Kapkan felt the warmth of Glaz’s chest against his back, Glaz’s thighs behind his own. He couldn’t move an inch without colliding with Glaz, who was hugging him closer like he was Glaz’s personal teddy bear. On the plus side, Kapkan wasn’t cold at all; even his face was burning. However, it was impossible for him to fall asleep like this.

His thoughts were stuck on a loop of repeating to himself this was fine, really, it shouldn’t be any different than taking a nap on any of his comrade’s shoulder. But of course this situation was different,  _ Glaz  _ was spooning him. The sniper’s breath teased the back of Kapkan’s neck, making his heartbeat stutter and his mind go blank. Kapkan didn’t the aid of need any of the psychology books he’d read to know he was utterly screwed.

Before he could do something too embarrassing, Kapkan pushed Glaz away and shuffled into a different sleeping position. Back pressed against the hard mattress and his arms rigid at his sides, Kapkan lay stiff as a plank. That wasn’t a deterrent for Glaz, who gravitated towards him once more. Glaz’s arm was over his stomach again, and the sniper’s head rested now on Kapkan’s chest. This was no better than the position from before. The sniper was a pleasant weight draped over him; Kapkan yearned to put his arms around Glaz and go to sleep entwined like that. And yet another part of him was screaming for Kapkan to stop and think. Glaz was asleep, he had no idea of what he was doing, and Kapkan doubted he’d be happy to awake in Kapkan’s embrace. So Kapkan lay still on the bed, trying to think of anything else but the man sleeping on top of his chest.

If he concentrated enough, he could hear the snow falling and accumulating on the roof. There was no wildlife noises, just the creaking of the trees and the wind. After an indeterminate amount of time, the loud snap of a branch breaking under the weight of the snow echoed in the sepulchral silence of the night. Glaz’s breathing pattern changed, but he didn’t fidget nor move. Kapkan wasn’t sure if he was awake or not.

“I know you’re awake, Maxim.” Glaz craned his head to look up at him. “Nobody has such an accelerated heartbeat and breathing while sleeping.”

“That’s because you’re crushing me and I can’t breathe.”

“Hmmm, sure,” the sniper hummed while lazily caressing Kapkan’s abdomen through the shirt. The contact was dulled yet electrifying, and Kapkan had to bite his lips to not sigh in satisfaction. Instead, he remained deathly still. Noting his lack of reaction, Glaz stopped, putting some distance between them. “I’m sorry, I thought… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

The sniper turned his back on Kapkan, giving him some space. The cold crept on Kapkan, the void left between them a black hole devouring the warmth from before. This was a thousand times worse than his fleeting embarrassment from before. Gathering his courage, Kapkan moved closer to Glaz.

“It isn’t… You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” The tension evaporated from Glaz when he heard that, eagerly accepting Kapkan’s arm over his. The hunter hid his face in Glaz’s hair when the sniper grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers and pushing back against his chest, legs tangled together.

“Good. Now sleep, please.” Glaz brought his hand up to kiss his scarred fingers, and Kapkan was glad nobody could see his burning face now. 

This definitely was nothing like sleeping next to any other comrade. The thought warmed him inside as much as Glaz’s contented sigh did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) in case you wanna say hi or see what stupid shit I'm up to xD


	9. The perfect gift - Doc/Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lion participates in Rainbow's Secret Santa and draws Doc's name. Lion might be panicking a bit.

The small slip of paper weighed on his pocket like it was made of lead. The chance of getting this person on the Secret Santa was less than a three percent, and yet the name written on paper in scraggly handwriting left no doubt: Gustave Kateb.

When Lion agreed to take part in this event, he’d done so only because Finka and Montagne both convinced him it would be both fun and good for him. He knew he wasn’t the most popular guy at the base, but Lion failed to see how participating in an anonymous gift game would improve his popularity. However, they were probably right in saying he should take part, being the only operator out of the event would single him out horribly.

His goodwill was repaid by drawing Doc’s name out of all the forty-plus possibilities.

The problem wasn’t their feud. No, that was solved and buried in the past. Doc still yelled at him sometimes, but Doc yelled at everyone when he thought people were overworking themselves and didn’t heed his advice to take a break and rest. The problem was that now they actually talked to each other, Lion couldn’t stop thinking about his teammate. Doc was insightful and knew how to listen. He also had a dry wit that paired rather nicely with Lion’s often acerbic comments. They still weren’t close friends, but Lion found himself craving Doc’s approval and attention. He was embarrassed by how much he thought about it.

Lion knew he was a terrible gift giver. He had the regrettable tendency to never pick the right choice, which only stressed his fears that he didn’t know people enough, no matter how close he thought they were. He’d disappointed his family before, especially his own child who he barely saw. This would be no different. Nevermind the little voice in the back of his head reminding him the gift was anonymous, so who cared really if it ended up being disappointing. Still, Lion wanted to gift Doc something special, something he’d love, and perhaps Lion would find the courage to reveal it had been his. Then Doc would… Well, Lion was reluctant to state his hopes even within the sanctity of his own mind. Daydreaming about impossibles would accomplish nothing.

After days of mulling over it, Lion was sure he had finally found the right answer to his conundrum. Right as he was about to fall asleep. The idea filled him with glee and relief; it was perfect. He’d need to ask for some favours, but Lion was confident he could find a professional to work on his idea. It also would probably exceed the budget that had been generally agreed upon, but nobody needed to know that.

Despite the excitement he felt at first when he came up with the idea, as soon as Lion set his plan in motion he started having doubts. What if Doc hated it, or thought Lion was overstepping a boundary? Perhaps none of those would happen, or maybe Doc would think it was a lazy gift. In any case, it was too late now. He had nothing else prepared and, in his not-so-humble opinion, the final result was amazing. There was no reason why Doc would hate this. Lion banished his most pessimistic thought and wrapped the present before delivering it to the event organizers, Ash and Thatcher. It was out of his hands now. 

The fateful day arrived and Lion kept the doubts out of his head for most of the morning. Sparring with the Spetsnaz demanded absolute concentration on what he did, and was still an invitation to end flat on his ass and bruised more time than he cared to admit. Then he focused on his overdue reports, successfully blocking the whirlpool of thoughts on the back of his mind. At least for a while, until a polite knock on the door heralded Doc coming in.

Lion stood like a deer caught in the headlights as Doc strode up to him and put an antique silver pocket watch on top of the desk. Lion looked at Doc and blinked. Doc looked back at him, unblinking. He wanted to break the silent stalemate, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if Doc was angry or happy or confused. If Lion had been sitting behind his desk, he would fidget with one of the pens. However, since he was standing in front of it and facing Doc, he clenched his fist instead, blunt nails digging lightly against the palm.

“I don’t know how you did it, but it looks as if it never broke.”

The raw gratitude in Doc’s voice was almost too much for him to handle. “Why do you think it was me?”

“You’re the only person who knows what this watch means for me.”

Oh. Well, that was unexpected. Lion remembered with pristine clarity how and when the pocket watch was broken. It happened on that hellish mission in Amsterdam, where they were separated from the rest of the team and found themselves fighting back to back, cornered by the White Masks. A bullet hit Doc squarely on the chest, and despite all the layers of protective armor they wore, his pained gasp made Lion fear the worst. Lion fought like his namesake, eliminating all the terrorists before worriedly running next to Doc. Fortunately, the armor had slowed down the bullet and the only casualty was Doc’s pocket watch. He still remembered Doc’s words like he had just spoken them, _“It survived my grandfather and father. I never imagined it would save me from a bullet.”_

Hesitation shadowed Doc’s face before he took a final step forward and enveloped Lion in a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend. This is the best gift I’ve received in years.”

Lion didn’t fight his instinct for once and melted into the embrace, feeling a rush of happiness. There was a sense of rightness in their embrace and, for the first time, Lion’s fears that Doc secretly still hated him seemed completly ridiculous. This was also the best present Lion had received in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) in case you wanna say hi or see what stupid shit I'm up to xD


	10. The gift of love - Pulse/Thermite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thermite surprises Pulse with an unexpected gift ;)

Traffic was a nightmare on Christmas’ Eve. Thermite honked the car’s horn, joining the cacophony of angry drivers clamoring to get their own cars moving out of the traffic jam. He should have known the airport was a dangerous trap these days.

“Can you please stop? Making noise will not magical get us out of here faster.”

By the corner of his eye, he saw Pulse pinching the bridge of his nose. Pulse was probably tired and jet lagged; he always got cranky like an old man when he was tired. Thermite considered honking again, just because it made him feel better than staying put doing nothing. He refrained though.

“How was the family?” Thermite asked instead, turning his head to look at Pulse.

“Eyes on the road, Jordan.”

“Are you kidding me? We ain’t moving!” Thermite let go of the wheel to gesture at the kilometric congestion on the road. “At this rate we’ll arrive after Christmas.”

“Mom was upset you didn’t come,” Pulse told him. “She made me promise I’d bring you in for New Year’s.”

“Sure thing, I still dream of the pancakes she made the last time we went to visit.” Thermite adored the small woman as much as she seemed to adore him. Pulse sometimes joked that his parents had adopted Thermite, but he knew Pulse was relieved they got along so well.

However, this year they were spending Christmas with Thermite’s big family, since they had run a rather aggressive campaign for the last months to have them both here these days. It was good practice to alternate which holidays they spent with each other’s family, although Thermite was an ambitious man and hoped to gather both the Estrada and the Trace families one of these days. Hopefully sooner rather than later if his plans worked out as intended.

“I know we agreed on no gifts this year, but I brought something for you.” Pulse looked at him with an apologetic smile.

The no gift agreement came to be because they both had been separately deployed recently, had no time to go Christmas shopping, and in fact until a few days ago, didn’t even know if they’d be free for Christmas. Thermite glanced at the rearview mirror, eyeing his jacket laying on the seat, and the lump beneath it. Since the traffic hadn’t moved an inch in all that time, Thermite dragged Pulse into a quick kiss. The contact was brief, but it bolstered his mood immensely. Judging by Pulse’s smile, he felt similarly.

“I got something for you too.” Thermite accompanied his confession by an unrepentant grin, making Pulse laugh. Thermite had always adored that sound. “It’s on the back seat, under my jacket.”

“Do you want me to open it now?” Pulse’s surprise was understandable, but Thermite just shrugged in response. It wasn’t the ideal environment for it, definitely not what he’d envisioned when he made the purchase, but waiting had never been Thermite’s forte. At least now in the car there was only the two of them, a small measure of privacy, and Thermite was curious to see if his family would notice or if Pulse would have to flaunt it until someone pointed it out. 

Pulse unbuckled the seatbelt to grab the plain and unassuming box under Thermite’s jacket. Once he had it, despite the car not having moved an inch yet, he buckled up again. “Seems it’s a light package.”

“Don’t fish for information and just open it,” Thermite chuckled, all his attention falling squarely on the other man. He drank in every movement and expression Pulse made while opening the box, only to find another slightly smaller box inside. And then another, and another one. Pulse’s expression slowly clouded, his frown creasing as he plunged his hand in the latest box, which was full of shredded paper.

“Jordan, I swear to God, if this is…” Thermite didn’t miss a detail of how Pulse’s vaguely irritated expression shifted into surprise when his hand grabbed a small jewelry box. His boyfriend’s gaze was briefly on him, wide eyed, before taking out the ring-sized box. With unsteady hands, Pulse opened the box to reveal a sleek white gold ring with what looked like a diamond encrusted on it.

Thermite cleared his throat, capturing Pulse’s attention. “Had a whole speech prepared, but I can’t go down on my knees here. I only want to say: Jack, I love you and I’d be the happiest man if you accept-”

“Of course I accept!” Despite being almost sure he’d say yes, hearing the words aloud and watching Pulse put on the ring reverently filled Thermite with relief.

“I didn’t even finish my speech.” Thermite was smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t care. Pulse said yes. They both leaned forward, lips meeting again and hands holding onto each other. 

A discordant symphony of furious honking surrounded them, the drivers moored on the road impatient and angry. Not the best soundtrack for a proposal, but neither of them seemed to care or even notice, too wrapped up in each other and their bubbling happiness. They were stupidly in love and engaged. Nothing could ruin this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) if you wanna drop to say hi!


	11. Felices Fiestas - Jackal/Mira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't part of my original plans, but sometimes requests can spark inspiration, and I already made a double entry for a prompt before with the mistletoe one. So without further ado, here's Jackal putting a ring on Mira ;)
> 
> And next chapter, which I'm updating today too will be the regularly scheduled one!

For the fourth time in the last ten minutes, Jackal checked his watch. He cursed and walked back to the living room, to make sure everything was in its place and ready. Jackal wanted this dinner to be perfect, for Mira’s sake. She would arrive soon and Jackal wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or if he needed more time. He only knew he was nervous.

Since neither of them had a family to go back to for Christmas, they stayed in Hereford, with the rest of the team who remained on duty. It wasn’t a problem for them, as long as they could be together, they’d be happy. Mira was his rock and he was hers, and he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She had gone to the base to work on one of her projects, promising she’d be back for dinner. Jackal excused himself saying he was too tired to accompany her. It wasn’t true, but he needed her out of the way to prepare the surprise. Cooking a three course meal for Christmas’ Eve, plus setting all the extra decoration, took a fair amount of time.

Now, with all the work done and dressed up for the occasion, Jackal counted the minutes and paced in front of the television Finally, just as he thought he was going crazy, he heard a jingle of keys and the door opening.

“Ryad, estoy en casa!”

Without waiting for an answer, she strode into the living room. Her gasp of surprise when she saw the table set with candles and actual silverware was endearing. She spun around until she located him, her expression adorably confused. A smudge of grease was still on her cheek, and to Jackal she had never looked so perfect.

“¿Debería cambiarme para la ocasión?” She asked while gesturing with her hands to herself and then the impeccably decorated table and living room. 

“Si quieres...” Jackal walked up to her and kissed her lightly. “Pero sabes que para mi siempre estás arrebatadora.”

She playfully hit him in the arm and hurried to their bedroom to get changed. Ten minutes later, she emerged dressed in a simple but charming black dress. After leading her to the table and pulling out a chair for her, the rest of the evening became a blur in Jackal’s memories. He was aware Mira enjoyed the meal, in particular the roasted poularde, but he was too nervous to properly focus on anything. Thankfully, Mira led the conversation, telling him about what she’d been working on that afternoon, and the lovely postcards they received from their old GEO friends back in Spain and how she’d like to go pay them a visit one of these days.

“No creo que pueda comer ni un bocado más,” Mira laughed when he announced he’d bring out the dessert. 

He got up from the chair and winked at her. “Pero si ahora viene lo mejor, cielo!”

Jackal grabbed the flan with meringue, took out the ring and pushed it on the meringue until only half of it was visible. The diamond was like a shining beacon sitting atop a fluffy mountain of white, sugary dessert. They’d been together for so long, always side by side, but it wasn’t exactly the same. Jackal could see a lot of reasons why Mira could choose to not tie herself to a train wreck like him. However, this was not the moment for doubts but the moment to act. He brought the plate out and set it in front of Mira, who looked at the ring like it was a mirage.

“Ryad?”

With a smile, he went down on one knee as it was traditional. However, he couldn’t say anything, because Mira jumped out of the chair and into his arms, making both fall to the floor. She was laughing, whether at their fall or out of happiness he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter.

Mira was straddling him, looking radiant and joyful like his best dreams come true. “Elena, yo-”

She shut him up with a kiss, slow and sweeter than any dessert in the world. That was the best answer Jackal could have hoped for and the perfect Christmas present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still on [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) if you want to visit me!


	12. Christmas Miracle - Ela & Zofia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter until after Christmas proper. I know there's still one ficlet pending, but I'm afraid Smoke and Mute will have to wait a bit. It will also probably be a New Year themed chapter, we'll see. I'll be enjoying the festivities, relaxing and working on some projects in the meantime.
> 
> Sorry for parting on a somewhat angsty note, but still Happy Holidays to y'all darlings! <3

The vending machine whirred pathetically and struggled to produce the ordered coffee. Ela kicked it in contempt, her mood darker than the supposedly edible liquid slowly filling the plastic cup. The cheap tinsel on all the doors’ frame only irritated her more. She took the cup off the machine with trembling hands, uncaring of how hot it might be, and took a sip. The burnt taste of coffee mixed with the strong antiseptic smell of the hospital nearly made her retch. That was the metaphorical last straw for her, and Ela had to leave her coffee in one of the plastic chairs while she sat on the ground with her head between her knees, controlling herself to not start screaming hysterically.

The people who passed along the corridor didn’t direct more than a cursory glance at her, but nobody bothered her. She supposed someone having a breakdown wasn’t an uncommon sight in the ICU wing. The urge to scream until her throat hurt slowly abated, and Ela was left with a single thought in her mind: this situation clearly surpassed her. If only Zofia hadn’t been stupid enough to get hurt! Guilt immediately seized her at the thought. Zofia had been shot while yanking Ela out of the way. She didn’t even know what to feel about it. Ela hadn’t asked for Zofia’s protection, but rage was a familiar and comfortable option. Ela was royally pissed, yes. She was pissed at Zofia for saving her, pissed at the doctors who took forever to operate her sister while she was slowly bleeding out, pissed at Doc for not being there, pissed at the prognosis that Zofia might never wake up again. Anger fit Ela like an old and worn t-shirt, comforting her in its familiarity.

Ela got up from the floor, picking up her coffee and chugging it down with a grimace. Instead of smashing the plastic cup against the wall like she had thought before, she chucked it into the waste bin with a forceful flick of her wrist. She slowly made her way back, barely paying attention to her surroundings. After two days coming here, she already knew the corridors in this wing by heart. A dense group of solemn looking people caught her attention. They talked in hushed whispers, some were crying. Behind them stood. a simple wooden door labelled as  _ Chapel _ . Whoever they were, they hadn’t received good news. Ela briefly entertained going inside and lighting a candle, but praying to a God she didn’t believe in, for a sister she had shunned for years? It was too hypocritical for Ela’s taste. Zofia was the believer, just like her husband, not Ela. Another thought came to the forefront of her mind.

_ “Shit, Zofia’s husband will arrive soon.” _

A weak laugh bubbled from her throat. She didn’t know how he looked, she didn’t even know his name. Ela never bothered to ask or pay attention to Zofia’s life, she only knew her sister was married and had a child. That concept hit her like a ton of bricks. Zofia had a child. Ela knew too well what it was like losing a mother at a young age, and she would never wish it on anyone, much less her niece. A niece Ela had never seen. 

Even distracted, her feet carried her to Zofia’s room. Ela stood in the doorway, looking at the figure lying in bed. The only noise came from the machine that monitored Zofia’s heartbeat, a spaced beeping that irritated Ela to no end. Although she figured it was good that the beeping was constant in its frequency. She strode to her sister’s bedside, looking at her. The mighty Zofia Bosak didn’t look so unstoppable now. 

“I’m all grown up now, Zo. I don’t your protection, and sure as fuck I never asked for it,” Ela hissed, blinking furiously to prevent the hot tears from falling. “What do I tell your daughter? That her mother is not coming home from Christmas because she was acting as a babysitter for me?”

In a fit of impulsiveness, Ela touched Zofia’s hand, the contact brief and hesitating. This was the longest conversation she’d had with her sister in years, and for the first time she wished it wouldn’t be so one-sided. Memories were rushing at her, unexpected and unwelcome. Ela had tried cutting all ties with Zofia, but when those wouldn’t completely break despite her efforts, she let them desiccate in hopes they’d die. Yet some things were more durable than Ela had realised.

“Remember when we were little and you’d tell me all your memories about mom? I still can’t remember her face, but I remember everything you told me. Don’t make history repeat itself, Zo. You always boast how you can withstand anything and get up to finish the job, so you better wake up from this or I swear I-” Limp fingers grasped Ela’s hand feebly and she nearly choked with the staggering amount of relief she felt. “Zo? Can you hear me?”

The grasp on her hand tightened slightly for a moment, fingers moving slowly as Zofia fought to awake, too stubborn to give up and go back to unconsciousness. Ela used her other hand to furiously wipe away the moisture on her eyes.

“I swear, you’ve always been so dramatic!” Ela’s laughter was a wet sound, more of a disguised sob. “Don’t you ever do that again, or I’ll kill you myself!”

Zofia squeezed her hand again, and Ela was sure her sister had interpreted her words as a  _ thank you _ instead. Which it was, deep down. However, Ela wasn’t sure if she was thanking Zofia for saving her on the field or for defying the odds and waking up, despite the unfavourable prognosis. Probably for both. Ela squeezed back at Zofia’s hand, not knowing how else to express her feelings on the matter. Everything would be okay, it would take time and effort, but for once Ela was inclined to believe not in happy endings but in mending broken bridges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me in [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) if you wanna drop to say hi!


End file.
